It's been a long week. One of those weeks that feels like a year. On a roadtrip. Sitting bitch. With the a/c out. Listening to Hootie and the Blowfish on staticky radio.

But I'm back. I have a sore throat. This appears to be to the benefit of my neighbors, who will no longer hear my shower operetta. At least not this week.

While I haven't been writing much, I have been thinking alot. Not in the way that, when you're caught napping, you go "My eyes are closed because I'm *thinking*". For real thinking. Pondering. About "working to live" vs. "living to work". About friendship and how you gauge how much time/effort you're going to put into getting to know someone. About the appropriate length for a flirtatious email. About forgiveness and persistence in the face of cumulative signs that something (or someone) isn't right for you. About how a silly game of football is the pinpoint upon which the most powerful nation in the world rests for exactly 4 hours per annum. And about how to best develop my triceps (suggestions are appreciated).

2004 has been pretty entertaining so far. I find myself making grossly inappropriate decisions that I know Lilly would never have made a year ago. As my bank account steadily approaches zero, I booked a ticket to visit Paris. I did this, quite simply, because I feel like speaking French and taking lots of black and white photographs, even if they are on an automatic camera. It makes no sense and it goes against every grain of what I've ever been taught, particularly with my job hanging (dangling?) in the balance. But I'm finding more freedom in living in the moment this past month than I have in the entire past 26 years of my life.

I've always been raised to gogogogogogogo. I've been watching my sister be the one to gogogogogogo for the last month (big ups to susie g.- take a trip around the corner to www.boygirlparty.com). There's this immense relief in not being the go-getter. In watching my sibling be the one to bring home exciting news and pride in her accomplishments. I have been revelling in my backseat position these past few weeks (ok, all of you - heads OUT of the gutter!). I get to have that amazing feeling of being proud of (her) accomplishments and - get this! - I don't have to do ANYTHING!

Besides my general lack of drive to do anything except knit scarves and watch reality television, I find my new attitude filling my brain like smoke seeping through from under the door. I have proof positive that I'm getting dumber, and I'm exploring this new (or just acknowledged?) spacey-ness with the same excitement that I'd try on new shoes or a funky pair of earrings. I'm attitude-accessorizing, if you will.

The other day I had two episodes of blatant stupidity; moments where I played Chrissy Snow to the world's Janet. And I LOVED them, because it felt so **normal**. You can't always be smart. You can't always be 'together'. You can't always have a map for the next 5 years of your life sketched out. I had always thought these things so necessary to my happiness, and yet I found myself unhappy.

When you take the pressure of attempts at perfection out of every moment of your waking life, you notice that you're actually breathing. You notice the sun rise and set, not as the imposing parameters of what you can get done in the day, but as a pretty gift you get on a daily basis, you ungrateful shit! :) Now when a piece of my life seems like it's unraveling, I either deal with it, or laugh about it and put it away for another day when I have the energy to deal with bullshit. I don't lose my head over it. I don't obsess. Because it's just life, after all.

For my next act, I will attempt to bottle this attitude.

"Life is a tragedy to those who feel, and a comedy to those who think."
-someone, as quoted to me by my Mom